Distant Annihilation. (Tarquin Collingwood Adventures Book 1) (25 page)

I could see Aziz driving and Mueller, machine gun in hand firing through the rear windscreen of their pick-up at our pursuers. A short distance ahead I could see that the road curved to the right. Our present exigency required extreme measures.....

“Hold on Guy!” I cried above the din of the machine guns.

It was impossible to communicate my intention to Aziz in the seconds available. As the curve came up I held my breath and braced myself. I fought against my natural instinct to turn the wheel to follow the road. We travelled at 80 mph as we went through the curve. And in a second it felt as if we were flying; for the wheels had left the road and we were in the air. It was a strange sensation; analogous to being on a plane when you feel the wheels on the runway and then you suddenly leave the ground and are flying. Our trajectory took us a remarkable distance in the air – it was a surreal sensation accentuated by the momentary silence, before gravitation took over; and we hit the barren ground with a colossal bump. We were jerked around abominably. Only our seat belts prevented a misfortune. The wheels found traction and I pressed down anew on the accelerator and changed down the gears.

We looked back and saw Mueller and Aziz, still being pursued, having gone past the curve where we had left the road. We could hear the intermittent crackle of machine gun fire emanating from the three vehicles. Their position looked grim - they were outgunned and outnumbered.

“What must they think of us, leaving the road for them to face our pursuers alone?” I asked feeling rather ashamed.

Before Guy had time to respond, he looked over his right shoulder and said incredulously, “What are they doing?”

The screeching of tyres could be heard. I stopped the 4WD and got out and looked over to the Highway. It seemed Aziz had performed a hand brake turn. Their pick-up had lurched to a halt and was now facing the enemy; and then their rear tyres began revolving, screeching and smoking; yet the pick-up did not move at first and then abruptly it shot forward, directly in the path of their pursuers. It straddled the middle of the road so nothing else could get past. I could see Mueller, for he was on the near side of the pick-up to us, firing
his machine gun at the oncoming enemy. They had decided to stop running and come at their pursuers directly. It reminded me of Nelson’s exhortation “
never mind manoeuvres just go at’em.
” We watched in admiration as they took the fight to the enemy, with no thought for their own safety. Guy got out and pointed a machine gun at the Persians; he held it up to his chin for better marksmanship and started shooting at their fast moving 4WDs; that would in seconds crash head on with Aziz and Mueller - unless someone chose to deviate from their present course. A game of “chicken” by any other name! Everything was happening so quickly that my senses could barely keep up. I watched - my body tensed, in expectation. Guy stopped shooting, lowered his gun and watched. As the impact was metres and a second away, given their combined speed – the first 4WD lost its nerve and veered left to avoid the pick-up. As it did so it seemed to lose control; past the pick-up and then zig zagged violently before the entire 4WD left the Highway and went down the incline at great speed at an angle. As it did so it landed awkwardly – causing it to roll over on its left side, with great force several times, emitting a crunching metallic sound, sending up a cloud of dust and debris. It finally stopped upside down a complete wreck.

The second 4WD screeched to a halt, turning as it did so; so that it stopped across the Highway at right angles to it. All the while getting closer, Mueller was firing his machine gun. One of the Persians who had fled the vehicle ran down the road his body twisted, as if in a perverse dance as it fell, riddled with Mueller’s bullets. The pick-up then smashed in to the side of the 4WD laying in its path, with an almighty crash; propelling the stationery 4WD several metres along the road, before both vehicles came to a halt. Such an impact, one would’ve thought must have disoriented my two comrades; but not a bit of it - for they came out of the pick-up all guns blazing. The remaining four Persians had left their vehicle and were now cowering on the other side of it for cover. They fired whenever they dared to raise their heads. Mueller who was on the near side to us, ran up to and around the 4WD, where the enemy were hiding, firing his machine gun. He killed one of them instantly, but his gun must have jammed or run out of ammunition for he discarded it and drew his knife. Mueller then went for the nearest man, who opened a burst of automatic fire into him just as he reached him; but not soon enough to prevent the German in his last act before entering Valhalla to swing his knife fatally into the enemy. They fell dead on top of one another.

Aziz meanwhile had boldly gone around the far side of the 4WD from us; a machine gun in one hand and a pistol in the other, blazing away, screaming at the top of his voice. The two remaining enemy combatants seemed to have lost their bravado after witnessing so many of their fellows die - to two men who seemed to know no fear. One of them started to run back down the Highway in the direction in which the convoy had gone. Just then Aziz came around and confronted the sole remaining Persian whom he shot him without any qualms. Tragically, as the Persian gave his last breathe and fell, his muscles must have relaxed causing his finger to fall on the trigger sending a burst of automatic fire into Aziz, who fell. At this point Guy machine gun in hand; stood on the skirting board and placed the weapon on the roof. After a moment of trying to bring the fleeing Persian to bear into his sights, he let off a short burst of fire. As I looked further down the Highway in the distance the small figure fell in the middle of the road. The last man from the second 4WD was dead!

“If you want to live - we need to leave now!” implored Guy.

Recognising the unassailable truth of Guy’s remark, we both got
back into our vehicle and I drove. As the Highway diminished in to the vast expanse, suddenly we heard a loud bang and a bright light illuminate the sky behind us.

“What now?” I stormed as I turned to look. “Christ!” I whispered as a flash of fire and flames shooting skywards could be seen in the distance, followed by a plume of black smoke where the first 4WD had come to rest.

“With any luck every Persian in the two 4WDs is now dead,” reflected Guy.

Soon the Highway was out of sight and Guy gave me instructions on which way to proceed, using the distance hills and valley walls as landmarks.

“They were brave men,” I managed to croak out after a while, breaking the silence, attempting to conceal my emotions at the loss of two comrades who had died nobly.

Guy replied with all reverence, measuring his words carefully, “I’ve seen many a brave man die in my time....I’ve seen none braver.” He paused and then continued, “We selflessly risked our lives to rescue theirs. They repaid that debt without being asked. Let’s make sure their sacrifice was not in vain.”

Looking out mournfully at the desolate terrain as I drove, I dwelt on the few days I’d known Aziz and Mueller; they’d been so alive and grateful when rescued moments earlier and now they were no more. It brought to mind the utterly transient nature of life and why one should live it as well as one could.

“Keep your eyes in front of you. This ground is uneven enough as it is,” ordered Guy.

I nodded; I could hardly do otherwise. I had to be focused on one thing to the exclusion of all else - escaping alive - as otherwise Aziz and Mueller would have died for nothing.

We would be crossing at an unmarked spot on the border. It was therefore impossible to know at exactly what moment we would actually cross. Guy informed me that 3 miles into Iran we would come upon a minor road that ran parallel to the border. Guy stated that we would turn right on to it, from where it would lead us to the A01 Highway. At the junction where the two met we would turn left into the A01 Highway and drive through Taybad as the Major had suggested and head directly for Torbat-e-Jam, thereby completely bypassing the border checkpoint, which would be behind us. When we came across the minor road of which Guy had spoken, it was finally confirmation that we had left Azakistan. I felt a release and wanted to toast my departure, but there was nothing to drink. This minor road
was flanked with bleak hilly countryside. As I drove along this minor road only one other vehicle past us; its driver staring at us as if we were from another planet.

“We’re too conspicuous,” said Guy, “we need to change vehicles the first chance we get.”

The scenery changed as we drove; the ground became flatter and the soil more fertile as evinced by the greater vegetation and increasing frequency of trees. We came upon a few Cypress trees on the left of the road, through which we could see a parked blue car. There was a track from the road that led through these trees.

“Turn left here,” Guy commanded.

I surmised what Guy was thinking. I applied the brakes so as not to miss the turn; shifted gear to first, left the road and drove down toward the blue car, as slowly and quietly as possible. We could see no one as I stopped the 4WD by the car. I turned off the engine and we both got out as quietly as possible, taking care that the doors should not slam. The blue car was an old four door Iranian built Paykan saloon car, a Hunter Hillman by any other name – the least conspicuous car in Iran due to its popularity. It was dirty and was probably of high mileage. One of the windows was ajar, the doors were locked
and the steering wheel had a steering lock attached to it. I placed my hand on the bonnet and felt that the engine was still warm.

“It’s not been here for long,” I whispered to Guy who nodded.

“Shame about the steering lock, I could’ve hotwired it otherwise. We need to find the owner. Look over there!” he responded indicating a clearing through some trees, “I’ll go down the road.”

Apart from a slight breeze and sound of swaying branches high above us, the place was completely silent. We parted and took a few steps, when suddenly through some trees further down the road in the direction Guy had been walking a laugh could be heard. We both turned to look at each other and Guy gestured for me to follow him and we both walked tentatively. The laugh had been a youthful one, as if from a woman or child. We left the road and went amongst some trees and heard some whispering and the sound of moaning. We walked a little further and through the trees, saw a meadow upon which a young couple were laying on a blanket in an amorous embrace.

“A courting couple,” whispered Guy disdainfully.

From the amount of bare flesh, I judged that they had rather gone past the courting stage and were in the post coital stage. Well it wasn’t a bad spot for it I suppose.

“Follow me and then stand a few paces behind,” Guy whispered.

Before I had a chance to make any protest he strode forward, breaking from the cover of the trees and started haranguing the couple. This was a country where even a married couple wouldn’t dare to engage in any act of intimacy in a public place, much less have sex; so for any unmarried couple the consequences of being caught in the act could end in prison or even being stoned to death. The fear and the horror that they displayed on being discovered was therefore entirely understandable. Guy began hollering and rebuking the young man. The couple started covering up and getting dressed; ashen faced and horrified that their privacy had been so rudely interrupted. The girl, whose breasts I couldn’t help notice were delectably pert, was practically in tears. The man then produced his keys and threw them toward Guy; who then seemed to instruct them to stay where they were. We turned and walked away, until out of their sight, when we broke into a jog to get to the vehicles. We left the 4WD unlocked with the keys inside. We took the guns and placed them in the back seat of the Paykan and covered them with a blanket. Guy unlocked the steering wheel and started the engine; it spluttered and coughed into life first time. I sat next to him and we turned around and headed for the road from whence we had just come.

“I told him I knew the girl’s father; and that if he didn’t do as I asked, her whole family would know before the day was out,” Guy explained.

“He might inform on us,” I protested.

“True. But I don’t kill innocents,” he said indignantly.

CHAPTER 31 – REFLECTION & RETRIBUTION.

When we got to the junction with the Highway we turned left and headed to Torbat-e-Jam. Here the road was empty but for us. Apart from the odd sign in Farsi, telephone lines and the occasional road side lighting, it was no different to the Highway on the Azaki side. We passed through Taybad in the blink of an eye, a real ramshackle place. The closer we got to Torbat-e-Jam the more traffic we saw. Guy found the main shopping street in the centre, where we abandoned the Paykan. It was a small town where nothing much happened. This meant that any strangers, particularly foreigners stood out; several locals gave us a stare before resuming their normal business, out of curiosity rather than any malevolence. We entered a branch of Bank Melli, one of several banks in the town. I obtained a cash advance with the credit card Edward had sent me
, for which I had to produce my passport.

We found a barbers shop where I had a shave. They gave us directions to the nearest bath house, which was a Qajar period Hamman; where I took a shower. I felt conspicuous in my cloths so we found a men’s clothing shop. Normally I’m quite particular about what cloths I buy; St James’s, Saville Row and Bond Street are my normal haunts - but I was here out of necessity. When the shopkeeper realised a big sale was in prospect, nothing was too much trouble. After cups of mint tea we left after nearly an hour. My purchases included a pair of trousers in which I could conceal my Glock and my tracking device, shirt, jacket, socks, underwear and trainers. I wore these as I left the shop; plus additional clothing, for which I purchased a small holdall, in an attempt to look like a normal traveller.